


I'm Not Letting Him Disappear Again

by kingkoblih



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Post canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-22 13:29:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11968395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingkoblih/pseuds/kingkoblih
Summary: What happens with a young figure skater who loses his drive and will to continue?





	1. Chapter 1

It had been a long time since he could enjoy a little bit of peace and quiet. It was his dream weekend. Not at his place, not abroad, not at the ice rink. He was at his parents’ house. For the first time in about six years, the whole family was in the house and it wasn’t anyone’s birthday or Christmas. They just _were together_ , they had fun, they took a rest from stress. He was chilling on a bed in the childhood bedroom of his, looking around the light blue walls (that used to be dark blue back when the paint job was new) covered in polaroid pictures from his competitions, from trips with his sister, from family vacations, and, also, a lot of posters of his favourite shows and musicians. Well, they used to be his favourite, back when he was a teenager.

Mickey was 27 now. He was a grown-up, an adult, or at least that was what everyone kept telling him. So was his sister. They had lived away from their parents for good six years now, but it was only two years that he had been spending apart from Sara. She moved to her own place, seeking a bit more independence. And Michele understood and he let her. After all, they were adults and he could no more tell her what to do, even if it was for her own good. He didn’t learn this on his own, though.

His eyes trailed to one of the pictures. The one Mila took of them in Barcelona. This time it was not just the Crispino twins – between them, there was a tall, overly-enthusiastic dude, hugging and squishing them both. The one person that always brought light into Michele’s life – Emil.

Not that they were exactly A+ friends. Emil was the master of invading Michele’s personal space and sometimes didn’t understand the meaning of the word “No”. On contrary, Michele was moody and a lot of times he caught himself being very mean to Emil. Despite that, their friendship worked out for a long time and, now when he looked back at it, he was very glad for it. Emil managed to pull him out of his shell in a way Sara couldn’t.

He sighed.

It had been two years since they spoke for the last time. It was at the _Internationaux de France_ , where Michele qualified for the GP finals for the third year in a row. Unlike Emil. He knew how hard Emil worked and how much he wished to finally reach the podium, but it just didn’t work out, no matter what he did. When Michele retrospectively watched Emil’s programmes, he had to admit the Czech had made more progress than anyone he’d known. Yet, for some reason, it was never good enough for the judges. The competition was huge, but he still couldn’t shake off the feeling that Emil’s scores were unjustly low.

After the competition in France, they had just a short talk. Emil looked bubbly as always, he smiled, he joked, he congratulated his best friend to getting in the finals and gave him one of those uncomfortably long hugs before leaving to his hotel.

The next day he announced his retirement.

It came like a lightning from a clear sky. Michele hoped they would have a word about it at the competition afterparty, in fact, _everyone_ did, but Emil didn’t show up. There was nothing but the press release where he asked for forgiveness and for some rest. The press release where he publicly apologized for not being enough and for not representing his country as well as he should have. The press release filled not with self-pity, as it might’ve seem, but with clear and sheer disappointment and self-hatred. Something Michele had never experienced with Emil before. He had left a dozen of voice messages and texts every day for Emil, but soon the phone became deaf. Emil deleted his social media. Suddenly, Emil was no more. Michele tried to visit him, but it turned out Emil moved, too, and Michele was too embarrassed to message or, lord save him, visit Emil’s family, even though he knew where they lived and he knew that the door was always open for him.

Only after his disappearance everyone in the skating community started realizing what a blessing this Czech young man was for everyone. His jokes and funny stories, his goofy costumes, funny exhibition routines and cheers shouted in broken English, that all was missing in everyone’s lives. And Michele so wished Emil could see that. In one of his weakest moments, right after Emil’s life-long best friend, a schnauzer called Béďa, died, he admitted to Michele that he often felt as if he was looked down on by the rest of the figure skaters. That no one really liked him and that they didn’t enjoy his company. That no one took him seriously.

Michele rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms and legs out on the bed. Out with all these stupid thoughts. He was here to relax! No stress, no sad thoughts. Only the beauty of his home town and the precious meals prepared by his mom and grandmas. That’s why he was there. He smiled softly and rolled over to his side to take a nap before dinner.

“MICKEY!”

He jumped up on the bed. Sara’s voice resonated through the whole house up to the second floor.

“I’m sleeping, leave me alone!” Michele shouted back.

“GET DOWN HERE!”

“I’m taking a nap!”

“MICHELE MARCELLO CRISPINO! GET YOUR ASS HERE! RIGHT NOW!”

When it came to the full name basis, Michele knew the situation was desperate. With a growl, he got up, put on a hoodie over his scrunched-up t-shirt and went downstairs to his sister.

“Hurry uuup!” he heard Sara’s urging.

“What is it?” he sighed as he walked inside the living room.

“Listen!” Sara was standing at the sofa, the remote in her hand as she was pressing the volume up button repeatedly.

“ _… and the third day of the competitions didn’t disappoint, either. The biggest surprise of the day was, no doubt, the dark horse of the Lightweight category. Emil Nekola from the Czech Republic, who is known within our viewers as a former figure skater, suddenly emerged from nowhere and is now making his way to the top. After ranking fourth at last year’s Grand Prix, he qualified to the World Championship and we cannot wait to see him compete in the finals tomorrow. It won’t be an easy task, though, since his opponent…”_

Michele was staring at the screen with his mouth open. Emil was there, on TV, wearing a blue judogi, looking more determined than Michele ever witnessed, as he was wrestling his opponent to the ground.

_“… however, Emil was able to win his semi-final match with an ippon after only two minutes. He already proved to be a hard competition here in Budapest…”_

“Who would’ve thought that the most pacifist boy ever would find his love in a martial art?” Sara chuckled. Only now Michele’s mind drifted back into reality. He subconsciously pinched his arm, just to make sure this was not a dream. The next second he was running up the stairs, back into his room.

“H-Hey! Mickey?!” Sara frowned. She was worried about her brother, since, after Emil disappeared, Michele’s moodiness became worse than ever and he didn’t seem like himself. She definitely didn’t want him to fall into that again.

“Mickey?” she asked carefully as she walked inside her brother’s room. Michele’s suitcase was open on his bed as the young man was throwing things inside in hurry.

“I need to go,” was the only thing he said.

“But… where?” Sara tilted her head slightly. She was worried. This was not Mickey at all, he hardly ever did something impulsively. Her brother straightened up and looked her in the eye.

“To Budapest, of course,” he smiled softly. “I know where he is now. I’m not letting him disappear again.”


	2. Friends and Loonies

Michele spent the four hours on the plane sleeping, as always. He had been to Budapest a few times before. Not exactly his favourite place in the world, but all his previous visits paid off that day. He managed to get a room in the hotel he always stayed at during skating competitions, so that things were at least a bit familiar to him. He hated new stuff, that was always one of the things that differed between him and Emil.

He had to put all his heart into begging some of his friends to beg some other friends of theirs to get him a ticket for the World Judo Championship final matches. Some bribing and he even managed to obtain a pass to the backstage area. He had no idea when would Emil compete, in fact, he had no idea about judo in general, so he decided to simply spend the whole day at the bleachers and wait.

Michele generally enjoyed other sports. Tennis, volleyball, athletics, he could watch any kind of sport when in the right mood, but martial arts and any kind of fighting, that was just not his thing. Despite that, he had to admit, judo was incredibly interesting. And so different from figure skating. He still didn’t understand what lead Emil to do a sport like this, what made him to such a huge change. Was this his dream all the time? Was he just too scared to stop skating? Did he stop _in order_ to pursue his judo career? Or was this all just a coincidence? He didn’t dare to guess. But he waited patiently.

His stomach didn’t share that waiting strategy, though. After the midday, he became incredibly hungry and, since the women’s competition was taking place, he decided it would be okay to disappear for a second and grab a snack.

Sitting at the little dirty table in an overpriced café at the gym areal, he quickly messaged Sara. _Still haven’t seen him._  While munching on the croissant with a somewhat okay-ish coffee, he took his time to finally find the time schedule for the event. Emil’s finale was to take place at 3pm, he still had some time.

He took another sip of his coffee and looked around. The matches were going on the TV there and his eyes trailed just there. He didn’t understand the Hungarian commentary, but he already knew enough of the sport to know the Brazilian lady was totally kicking the Armenian girl’s ass.

“I get it, but he’s not good _enough_ ,” he heard two men talking at the table next to his. “He made a great progress, but Ōno is something totally different!"

“But he already proved that he knows how to tackle a good opponent. Don’t forget that everyone expected him to fail to get even to the semi-finals.”

“That’s right, all the betters and gamblers are crying right now, I bet.”

“I’m telling you, he _can_ win.”

“He doesn’t have enough stamina.”

“But his technique is amazing. If he manages to tackle Ōno down quickly, he still has a chance.”

“But Ōno will try to tire him down. I think he’ll do that no problem.”

“Hmm, you might be right…”

 Michele sighed and looked at the event schedule again. NEKOLA vs ŌNO. Just reading Emil’s name made Michele’s stomach twist. He hadn’t seen his best friend for years and now, when he’ll finally have him in sight, he’ll see him getting beaten up. Not that he didn’t believe Emil could win, but… He’d never won anything.

Michele quickly shook his head. Why was he thinking like that?! That was so mean of him! Emil deserved to win just like anyone else. And he _would_ win, Michele decided. And… If he didn’t, at least Michele would finally be a good friend and comfort him, unlike at all the skating events.

By the time the Lightweight category came up, Michele was getting into the sport more than he ever anticipated. He had to admit – it was quite exciting, especially with the thought of Emil’s match being next. And when the lights went finally down and Emil’s name was declared, his heart stopped.

Emil was walking through the long alley around the tatami along with his coach, a middle-aged man, who was constantly talking to the nervous young man. Yes, Emil seemed nervous. His face was tense, so was his whole body, covered in a white judogi with his name written on the back. It was a surreal view. His hair was still overgrown and ruffled up, his beard was slightly longer than he remembered and his eyes were still the most beautiful shade of blue he’d ever seen. Michele’s heart started beating like crazy and he clenched his fists when Emil’s opponent arrived to the other side of the tatami.

 

*********************

 

He cried.

He couldn’t help it.

It was the most nerve-wrecking seven minutes of Michele’s life. Emil gave the match his everything, but, just like the men in the café said, he didn’t have enough stamina, even though he tried his best. After five minutes, he still wasn’t able to tackle his opponent down and after additional two minutes of the Golden Score Contest, Emil ended up on his back, desperately trying to get Ōno off him. Unfortunately, his Japanese opponent was holding him down almost effortlessly.

Emil laughed.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. The Czech man was laying on his back, beaming with happiness as his opponent helped him back on his feet. They bowed, they hugged briefly. Emil seemed so happy when he ran off the tatami and hugged his coach. He didn’t win, yet he was happier than Michele had ever seen him.

His phone buzzed. He quickly fished it out from his pocket and wiped his eyes to read the message from Sara. _“Don’t cry, big brother!"_ it said and it contained a screen shot of an Instagram post. Michele’s cheeks immediately turned red. It was a picture of him crying at the bleachers took by one of the fans (whose username was @EmimikeProtectionSquad) with a description saying:

_“Emil didn’t win, guys. But LOOK!!!!!!! MICHELE IS HERE! HE CAME TO CHEER FOR HIS BOYFRIEND!”_

Michele quickly shoved his phone in his pocket and got up. He needed to get to Emil before people noticed he was here. He didn’t expect judo fans to recognize him, but he definitely didn’t want rumours to spread because of this, especially not now, with the start of Emil’s new career. Unfortunately, right upon heading towards the backstage, someone’s hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Michele? Michele Crispino?” a young woman asked. Before he knew it, he was dragged by a young blonde reporter towards a camera guy. He was sure he’d seen the woman before, probably at one of the figure skating competitions. Even her voice seemed familiar and he was sure he did an interview with her before. He didn’t really know what to say this time, though. He managed to stutter out a few sentences about judo being a very interesting sport and that he never expected to enjoy it so much. He was sure this news report would be a total disaster.

“Did you come to cheer for you old friend Emil?” the lady asked suddenly.

“I, uh… Actually-“

“Is it true that the two of you haven’t talked for almost two years? Since his retirement?”

“Well, you know…”

“I have an idea,” she suddenly grabbed Michele’s hand again and turned to the camera. “Let’s go meet Emil, the new World Championship silver medallist, together!”

Everything happened so quickly, he had no idea what was going on. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of Emil’s changing room, his heart beating like crazy, a lump in his stomach, his head spinning from the amount of information the news reporter kept spitting out. What would he say to him? Why does he have to do this in front of all these people? His eyes dug into the tiled floor, his hands clenched. He wasn’t ready to meet him, not yet…

“Mickey?” he almost screamed. Hearing Emil’s voice saying his name… He’d almost forgotten how it felt. He looked up, the Czech man, more mature and more handsome than he remembered, was looking him in the eyes, standing in the doorway. He was no longer wearing the judogi, he was back in his usual plain hoodie and loose sweat pants, just like Michele remembered him.

Before he could say anything, he leaped forward, his arms wrapped around the long-lost friend, and he squeezed him tightly.

“Congratulations!” he almost yelled from all the excitement as his face buried into Emil’s shoulder. Immediately, Emil’s arms wrapped around his torso and suddenly his feet were not touching the ground – Emil picked him up!

“Hiiiiii!!!!!!! Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in ages, what are you doing here?!” Emil laughed. He set Michele back down on the ground and pushed him away slightly, still holding his shoulders, to see him better. “You look great!”

“So do you,” Michele finally couldn’t contain himself anymore and started laughing too. “What the hell was that match, though? I came here all the way from Italy to celebrate a gold, you’re not making this easy for me!”

Emil pulled him inside the changing room, slamming the door shut right in front of the reporter. Before he knew what was going on, Michele was held tightly in Emil’s embrace. He didn’t protest. Just smelling Emil’s hoodie was like heaven to him and suddenly all the things they had gone through together ran through his head. The first junior competitions, the first time Emil ran to him and Sara to confess he absolutely adored them, all the times young Emil annoyed the shit out of him, the times he thought Emil wanted to date Sara, the first senior competitions, all the times Emil was calming him down in the locker room after a messed up performance, the times they spent in a hotel room together, the times he visited Emil’s family, the awkward misunderstandings caused by everyone thinking they were dating, both of them being confused about their relationship, the last time they kissed, the last time they spoke…

“Is everything okay?” Emil asked suddenly, a hint of worries in his voice.

“Yes, yeah, I just came to see you compete, that’s all,” Michele replied, his words muffled by Emil’s shoulder. He felt Emil’s hand rubbing his back lightly and he couldn’t help but smile. It was so strange to be held so gently by a man who just a minute ago tried to beat the living shit out of someone else.

“How did you even know? I didn’t know you were a judo fan?”

“I’m not. Or, well, I wasn’t. I saw you on TV yesterday, so I came to see you and to cheer for you. That’s what friends do, right?”

“No,” Emil laughed and Michele felt his warm lips on his cheek. “That’s what loonies do.”


	3. Home

They were in the bed, Michele’s head resting on Emil’s chest. He listened to the heart beat, he felt calm and cosy as Emil’s chest slowly raised with every breath he took. They held hands, their fingers tangled together, resting on Emil’s stomach, and, as always, Emil’s hand was travelling across Michele’s back. Just like back then…

“You should really let him in,” Michele commented on the constant scratching on the door that’d been coming in for the past twenty minutes.

“He’s not allowed on the bed, anyways,” Emil shrugged and placed a kiss on top of Michele’s head.

“Exactly. So he probably sleeps here with you every night,” Michele teased. Emil didn’t protest, so he slowly got up. His body was sore, but it was the good kind of sore. Like after a long practice or, well, after a beautiful night. He stretched his back and walked over to the door to open it. A schnauzer ran inside the bedroom, almost tripping Michele up. In a second he was on the bed, nesting right next to Emil, who immediately rubbed the top of his head.

Before getting back in the bed, Michele had a good view of Emil’s naked body. He changed so much… It was no more a body of a figure skater. Emil’s muscles were way more prominent, his build changed too and Michele wouldn’t hesitate to label Emil’s body as god-like. He returned to his place on the bed, right next to Emil, and they hugged again. He felt the dog resting his head on top of his hand. It was quite adorable.

“Love the new place,” Michele commented. It was a strange thing to admit, but, since they met, they had not really talked much. All their conversations happened through little touches and puns, inside jokes and wide smiles. He’d never had as much fun as on the way from Hungary to the Czech Republic. He found out Emil was no longer living in Olomouc, he moved all the way to Prague, had a big apartment all for himself, he even had a car, which was something he never wanted to even hear about when he was younger. He had a new dog, a 6 months old schnauzer puppy called Míša, who often stayed at his neighbour, Šárka, a lovely young girl, who studied photography at the nearby university. When they arrived and went to pick the dog up, Emil got a handful of developed pictures of his dog from Šárka and she immediately snapped a picture of them two together, too. It seemed like Emil had lived the life of his dreams and Michele couldn’t be happier.

“Thanks. Actually,” Emil yawned and moved a few disobedient strands of hair out of his face, “, I bought the carpet we wanted for _our_ apartment. And the sofa cover you liked. It’s Míša’s favourite,” he chuckled as the dog’s ears went up upon hearing his name.

“And the curtains, I recognize those,” Michele added. He remembered all those things, of course. Two years ago, shortly before Emil disappearing, they had actually planned moving together. As friends, of course, not as a couple. Or maybe as a couple? He still wasn’t sure. But the apartment they found had two bedrooms, so that each of them would have their own privacy. This place reminded him of it a lot. Unlike Emil’s old student flat in Olomouc, this place was breathing out a home atmosphere, a sort of cosiness and love he had only ever encountered at his parents’ house before. He was sure Emil had to put a lot of thought and love into this place.

“Can I ask something?” he finally got his courage together and looked up at Emil. The Czech only nodded and his eyes widened slightly.

“Why judo?”

Emil closed his eyes briefly and Michele felt the arm wrapped around him squeezing him tighter. Emil smiled and kissed Michele’s forehead.

“That’s it?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Michele frowned slightly.

“I have left for two years, I didn’t say anything, I left you hanging there without a word and you ask me _why judo_?” Emil smiled softly, though his voice sounded rather sad.

“Well… Yeah?” Michele still didn’t understand. “I mean… It’s a very different sport and…” he noticed the look Emil was giving him. He sighed.

“Look, you didn’t want to talk about this for years, I don’t want to force you into telling me now when we just met,” he said finally and he reached up to caress Emil’s cheek. “Take your time with everything. I want you to be happy, that’s all. I can wait for all the explanations.”

Emil took a gentle hold of the hand touching his cheek and kissed it. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the flood of Michele’s soft hair.

“I know you’re the older one here, but I’ve got to say… You’ve grown up so much, Mickey,” he hummed. It was true. Just a few years ago, Michele wouldn’t be able to handle this with such grace. He would yell at Emil. Probably for weeks before they’d be able to talk like normal human beings finally. But with all that happened in the past few years, he grew patient. Patient and understanding.

“Thank you,” Emil whispered and for a second, Michele was sure Emil was fighting himself not to cry.

It took them a good half an hour before they got enough of each other’s presence and they decided to have breakfast. It was a cold morning, the sky was grey and Michele felt a lump in his throat he was sure was caused by the cold air getting in through the open window. He put on his sweatpants and Emil’s hoodie, Emil, on the other hand, put on only a crumpled-up t-shirt and comfy shorts. They walked to the kitchen, with Míša constantly getting in their way, and Emil made them each a cup of hot coffee. Michele sat at the small dining table and took a sip of the hot liquid, he immediately felt the lump in his throat melting away. Emil didn’t sit down – after feeding the hyperactive dog, he spent another ten minutes at the stove, making a semolina pudding, a meal Michele absolutely loved to eat at Emil’s grandma for breakfast. It was warm, sweet, just the right thing to eat in a cold morning.

They sat at the table, opposite to each other, and Emil’s foot was resting on top of Michele’s under the table. They listened quietly to the noisy eater Míša and Michele’s eyes travelled across the walls. Emil had a lot of pictures everywhere. He knew Emil was a nostalgic guy, but he was surprised by the amount of picture frames all around the apartment. There were pictures of Emil’s family, some baby pictures of him and his brother, and, of course, a lot of pictures of Emil skating.

“I still go to the ice rink, you know,” Emil said suddenly, noticing Michele’s gaze. “I still do skate a bit. For fun.”

“You do?” Michele smiled. “It’s hard to cut yourself off of it just like that, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I didn’t really think it through,” Emil laughed quietly. “For the first two months, I had no idea what to do with my time,” he admitted. “So I just visited friends and drank…”

“You and drinking?! I can’t really imagine that!” Michele gasped theatrically, implying the last birthday party they spent together where Emil got so smashed he tried to dance with Christophe’s mom.

“Ha ha ha, real funny, you’ve slept well, haven’t you?” Emil made a face back at Michele and stepped on his foot a little bit heavier under the table. Michele shook his head and quickly stuffed his mouth with some semolina pudding to stop giggling.

“But really, do you miss skating?” he asked after a while.

“Oh, I do. But I don’t,” Emil shrugged. “I miss skating itself, not the competition. I still can jump a triple toe loop, but the quads have been out of reach since I stopped practising regularly. I still watch competitions on TV, though and, just between us, you’re getting old.”

“Well, thank you, asshole!” Michele laughed, shaking his head again.

“Hey, you’re not fooling anyone, grandpa,” Emil stuck his tongue out. “It’s your knees, isn’t it? Do they hurt?” Michele raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, how did you…”

“Oh, please. You don’t land your jumps as low as you used to. And you tend to do spins on your other leg now, so, I suppose it’s the left knee that hurts the most. Am I right?”

“I hate you,” Michele grinned. It was basically his way of saying “Yes”. It was refreshing to see that Emil wasn’t fully out of the field. “But for real now, can you finally explain to me this whole judo thing? You would never hurt a fly, how did you get to this?” he tilted his head, the soft smile still lingering on his lips.

“Total coincidence. Do you remember Dan? The guy who lived with me during college? He was looking for a buddy for judo practice and I had nothing better to do, so I joined him. And got into it. I definitely didn’t plan to become a world champion or anything.”

“And do you enjoy it?”

“Very much,” Emil answered immediately. From the way his eyes sparkled, Michele was sure he could believe his words.

“I think I have found myself, you know,” Emil continued quietly, his gaze dropping down to his cup of coffee. “I loved skating. And I still love it, it brought so many great things into my life, but… I was never meant to be a champion.”

“I thought you skated because you loved it,” Michele asked the obvious question. This was what Emil had always said, after all.

“Yes, and that’s true, to an extent. But it was too much effort for nothing. I worked day and night and I still wasn’t able to even qualify for most of the competitions all my friends got into and…” he sighed. “It was just… It was too much. I was fed up with it and I didn’t enjoy it anymore.”

“I understand that…” Michele said quietly. He reached for Emil’s hand. A bit cliché, but he felt like it was probably the first time Emil opened up about this in years. He needed all the support.

“This is my life now and I think I’ve made the best decision of my life,” Emil nodded firmly. “Skating was always my dream, but it’s important to recognize the point at which pursuing your dream is not worth it anymore. During not even two years I’ve made more progress in judo than I’ve done in ten years in skating. I think I’m on the right path now,” he finally looked Michele in the eye with a firm smile. This was the Emil Michele missed. His blue eyes were sparkling, the grip on his hand was tight, Emil radiated inner strength and balance.

“Don’t look at me like that or I’ll drag you to the bedroom again,” Michele threatened with a mischievous smile. Emil almost choked on his coffee as he started giggling.

“Who are you and what have you done to Mickey?!” he laughed. “This is so not you, dear lord, what’s going on here?!”

They laughed and finished their breakfast in an exceptionally good mood. It seemed like they both were very vary of the fact they missed each other, probably more than they were willing to admit.

“We should go get some groceries. I’m cooking lunch today,” Michele decided and he started picking the dishes up to wash them. Before he could get up of the chair, Emil grabbed his wrist firmly.

“Wait,” he said, holding Michele in his place for just a bit longer. “There’s one more thing I need to talk to you about.”

Michele sat back down with a surprised “Sure…?”. He didn’t know what was going on, but the urgency of Emil’s voice made him worried. Emil cleared his throat, looking away quickly. For a second Michele would swear his cheeks flushed.

“Okay, well… You know there, uh…” he sighed. “Well, you know there have always been a lot of rumours about us and stuff and… We never really did anything about them, you know, I don’t think we’ve ever even talked about what’s… going on here?” he gestured, pointing at both of them.

“Yes…?”

“Well, I was thinking… I mean, I know we haven’t seen each other for a long time, but we spent a really nice few days together and, well… I was just thinking if you would like to maybe, uh… Live here? With me? Like we planned before? I mean…”

“As a couple?”

“As a couple.”

Emil smiled nervously. This was unexpected. But Michele smiled back and nodded without thinking.

“Sure. I’d love to,” he said finally. And the reward for it was the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. Emil was beaming again. He didn’t say anything, just nodded, but Michele was sure his new boyfriend was now screaming inside.

“Great, so you can do _our_ dishes now when you _live here_.”

“Seriously. I hate you, Emil.”


	4. Congratulations! - BONUS CHAPTER

The rumours spread fast in the world of figure skating. They hadn’t even spent the first night together and Michele’s messenger was already full of questions and cheers from his colleagues. When he finally sat down to his phone the next day to read through all the messages, he had to smile. All of them said the same: _Say hi to Emil, tell him we missed him, we hope you both are okay._

Needless to say, after Emil leaving the figure skating circles, Michele found himself incredibly alone, thanks to which he finally found a way to his fellow figure skaters and made some great new friends. Strangely enough, he found himself in a very close friendship with JJ. They both had grown and matured and, despite JJ’s exhibitionism and Michele’s moodiness, they became quite fond of each other. He was the only person Michele sent a private reply to, explaining what all happened and how Emil was doing. The rest of people had to do with a simple tweet saying he thanked everyone who thought of them and that they would talk later.

A month later, Michele finally met everyone at the first competition since Emil’s comeback. It was a strange feeling knowing Emil was back, yet not back at all. Nevertheless, Michele felt calmer than usual. There were no more thoughts haunting him or holding him back. He was the happiest he’d ever been and his sister was sure glad to see that. She could always tell.

“Mickey!” he heard her voice only a second before the young woman jumped at him and hugged him tightly. He hair tickled his nose, even though it was no more as long as it used to be. Sara’s hair was now cut into a bob cut, usually reasonably ruffled up thanks to her wild nature.

“Sara! How are you doing? Are mom and dad alright? Were they mad that I left so quickly?” he asked, slightly worried.

“No, not at all! They were pretty excited, actually. We watched Emil’s match at home, even though no one understood a shit of what was happening,” she laughed and kissed Michele’s cheek. “You look great, big brother.”

“Well, I got a haircut and…”

“You know what I mean,” she teasingly bumped his shoulder. “You’re _beaming_ , Mickey! Haven’t seen you this happy for a long time. Is Emil here?” she looked around.

“No, actually, he’s got a match tomorrow, so… But he’ll come tomorrow in the evening. Actually, are you free by then? We have some stuff to talk about and we’ll-“

“Mickey!” strong arms suddenly wrapped around the Crispino twins as JJ’s deep laugh filled the room. “How’re you doing, buddy?” he pat Michele’s back and let go of the two. Sara didn’t seem bothered at all, after all, JJ, along with his now-wife Isabella, had become a friend of the both of them.

“I’m great, hi, Jean,” Michele let go of Sara to give JJ a proper hug.

“So where’s that boy of yours? Don’t tell me you didn’t bring Emil along after all that fuss?”

“Actually, I haven’t,” Michele sighed.

“It’s hard to date a champion, isn’t it?” Sara laughed and rubbed Michele’s arm. “Emil has a match tomorrow, but Mickey said he would come in the evening,” she parroted Michele’s previous sentence to the tall black-haired man. “So, what’s that you want to talk about?” she looked back at her brother.

“In fact, we want to invite everyone for a little party-“

“Did anyone say party?” Chris suddenly emerged, leaning on the frame of the doorway. He was wearing a warm sweater with a pair of formal black trousers. “It must be big between you two puppies,” he wiggled his eyebrows with a chuckle.

“PUPPIES?!” Viktor ran into the room. “Wait… Are you mocking me again, Chris?” with his child-like nature, Viktor puffed up his cheeks, turning back to his best friend upon realizing there were no dogs in the room.

“I was talking about Michele and Emil, my dear. They’re throwing a party tomorrow. I hope the invitation includes the good old coaches too, Mickey, sweetheart!”

“Of course,” Michele nodded with a smile. “Emil wants to see you all, guys. Yuuri and Yuri are invited too, Viktor. And you can take Deniss with you, Chris, the more the merrier.”

“What’s with all this Crispino being social and friendly?” Chris laughed. “That Czech boy sure has good influence on you, you should keep him.”

“Well, about that…” before Michele could finally tell everyone the reason behind the invitation, a voice from the loudspeaker announced the time of their practice coming up. Sara hugged Michele for the last time before disappearing and all the men started getting ready.

Their competition took place in the evening and he had a long skype call with Emil afterwards. It was after midnight in Helsinki and he knew it was even later for Emil in Zagreb. But Emil insisted on having a talk.

“… no no no, you don’t understand,” Emil sighed with a little chuckle. “You have to kinda… uh… Like, twist the ankle a bit, you know, to get on the inner edge and it helps to twist your hips too, it just slides and looks better,” he tried to explain how Michele could improve his step sequence, making weird hand movements to demonstrate everything better. Michele couldn’t really focus, though. He was staring on the screen with a silly smile on his face.

“What?”

“I love the longer hair on you,” Michele explained.

“Why, thank you!” Emil smiled wide. He was always so great at taking compliments, unlike anyone else Michele knew. “Can you make that bomb-ass braid for me tomorrow again?”

“Sure thing, Chris is gonna get a nosebleed, though,” Michele laughed and rolled over in the bed. His laptop was resting on a pillow and Michele looked sleepy and comfortable. “You know he’d always been checking your ass when you both still competed?”

“Of course, he very proudly told me a long time ago. And then he reminded me of it every time we met,” Emil grinned. “Can’t be mad at him, you’ve always done the same.”

They talked for almost an hour when Michele finally shut Emil off.

“You need to go to sleep, baby.”

Emil sighed.

“I guess you’re right… Okay, see you tomorrow. I’ll be at the club at around 10.”

“Can’t wait,” Michele shifted in the bed. “Good luck tomorrow, champion,” he added with a loving smile.

“Thanks. Good luck to you, too,” Emil winked. “Love you.”

“Love you,” Michele replied and ended their call.

 

 

The next day was a total blast. At 9am, with a loud knock on the door, all Michele’s friends squeezed in his room, piled up on the big bed and the floor and watched Emil’s matches while having breakfast. Besides Chris’ complaints about the judogi being “too lose to allow them to really appreciate the athletes’ bodies”, the room was filled with loud cheers and lots of laughter. Only Michele was absolutely quiet during Emil’s matches, squeezing the pillow on his lap and focusing on the happenings on the screen. He was the only one really knowing the rules of judo (besides Mila, who sometimes participated in local competitions), but it didn’t stop the others from having genuine fun.

The room almost exploded when Emil came out of the final match as a winner, becoming a gold medallist of the Zagreb Grand Prix. Sara gave Michele a tight hug and Michele himself felt like crying. He didn’t know why, but, unlike skating, this sport was so nerve-wrecking for him, he felt such a wave of happiness and relief after each and every Emil’s match, whether he won or not. He just wanted Emil to be alright and not to get hurt.

_“…and it is a truly successful week for this amazing Czech athlete, considering he just got married on Tuesday and became the Grand Prix champion on Saturday!”_

The room became dead silent, except for the commentary still going on the TV. Everyone’s eyes shifted to Michele.

“Uh…” he shifted slightly on the bed, giving everyone a nervous smile. He lifted up his hand to reveal the silver ring on his ring finger, which, for some reason, had no one noticed before, with a quiet “Surprise…?”

Another salve of loud cheers and laughs exploded in the room. Soon everyone was piled up on the bed, hugging Michele and wishing him all the best to the marriage. Michele felt surreal. As someone who had never had friends before and refused to talk to all these people for years, knowing that they were so happy for him and his new husband was the best thing he could ever wish for. They quickly celebrated with a toast of pepsi, since they couldn’t drink before competition, and Michele assured everyone that they would have a proper celebration at the party in the evening.

When everyone slowly left his hotel room to get ready for practice and the upcoming competition, Michele spent quick few minutes to send a text to Emil saying his congratulations and telling him about everyone being super nice and supportive. He didn’t wait for a response, since, Emil would be too busy with reporters and press conferences, so he grabbed his stuff and made his way to the ice rink.

 

 

Emil arrived at 11, due to his flight being delayed, but it didn’t really matter. Everyone in the club, that was reserved only for them for the night, was having a great time. Emil stopped at the door and looked around. Under the giant banner saying “CONGRATULATIONS TO YOUR MARRIAGE!” was a smaller paper poster, which Emil suspected was made by Viktor and Chris, saying “and congrats to your 1st and 2nd place!”.

Emil squinted, the club was quite dark and, although there were not that many people, he had trouble looking for his husband. He didn’t have to look for long, though, as Michele’s arms wrapped around him from behind.

“Hello, handsome,” Michele giggled and moved in front of Emil to give him a proper hug.

“Oh wow, look at you,” Emil chuckled. Michele was wearing fancy formal pants and even fancier looking shirt.

“Me? Look at _you_ , I almost didn’t recognize you without the sweatpants,” Michele laughed. Truth to be told, Emil, dressed in light brown pants and a shirt with the long sleeves rolled up and the buttons at his neck undone, looked hot, especially taking in consideration the messy bun his hair was tied in.

They kissed and Michele straightened Emil’s collar while Emil looked around.

“Hey,” he pointed at the banners hanging on the wall. “Nice decorations.”

“Please, don’t say anything,” Michele laughed. “I didn’t want to make a big thing out of this, but Sara and Mila did the… the _girl_ thing they always do,” he implied the way his sister and her girlfriend could always, at any circumstances, get decorations to any party, no matter how last minute it was.

“Congrats to the silver, though,” Emil gently picked a piece of colourful confetti from Michele’s hair. “I watched the free skate, you did amazing.”

“I know I didn’t bend my knees as much as you’d love to,” Michele scrunched up his nose with a chuckle.

“Nah, but I’m actually glad that for once you…”

“Don’t say it.”

“… actually came second.”

“You’re a pig,” Michele teasingly slapped Emil’s shoulder before pulling him into one more hug.

“Shall we?” Emil took Michele’s hand and placed a gentle kiss on top of it.

“Yeah. They’re all waiting for you,” Michele nodded, squeezing his hand. Emil leaned down and placed a kiss on Michele’s cheek, his beard tickling against the dark skin. He leaned to Michele’s ear and his free hand ran through Michele’s soft hair.

“Nah. From now on, they’re all waiting for _us_.”


End file.
